


Tenth Lives

by misura



Category: Original Work
Genre: Allergies, Gen, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 12:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12481328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Every problem has a solution.





	Tenth Lives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azaleaknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azaleaknight/gifts).



It was, all agreed, a most unfortunate thing for Arina Tillikoppoli to have been born allergic to that most comforting and loving of tyrants, who made incessant demands on one's time, only to repay tireless slavery and ceaseless service with a kind of careless, absent-minded affection expressed mostly by consenting to leave alone either the drapes or dinner (but not, it went without saying, both).

A less ambitious woman might have settled for a lesser career. There was always room for another long-lost princess, after all, or, had Arina been more martially inclined, a girl-knight trained in secret by an elder relative in order to save the kingdom from certain doom, ill-mannered dragons or even the invading forces of Evil.

A less scrupulous one might have sought to pursue a living as a thief or assassin, or sought to climb the slippery rungs of the career ladder in service to aforementioned forces of Evil, which offered, aside from the pleasures of sowing death and destruction, a quite generous pension along with health benefits that were nothing to scoff at and vastly superior to those offered by the ever-financially-besieged forces of Good.

A woman more neutrally inclined might have selected any from a host of careers: from amazon to zoologist, from xenolinguist to candlemaker. The possibilities were endless.

Unfortunately, Arina Tillikoppoli had had her heart set on becoming a witch.

Thus, her problem.

 

The house, at first glance, did not look like much.

It had a roof, walls and several windows - the bare qualifications, one might say.

The roof leaked, but this was not evident merely by looking at it. The windows were dirty, which was, but then, it was a poor witch who might not fashion from her broom a temporary servant to deal with the simpler household chores such as cleaning and cooking.

The walls were unremarkable. They did not hold the dead bodies of previous inhabitants, nor the skeletons of animals and other beings best left at the cemetery. They met all the expectations one might have regarding walls.

Presumably, they would not be able to withstand the full force of a simple spell to cure a cold gone awry due to an ill-timed sneeze, but then, Arina Tillikoppoli would not expect them to. She was, as pointed out, a witch, which was to say she was sensible, practical and logical. Miracles were quite outside of her expertise.

Hauntings, also, which was why it took her a few weeks to realize why her new home had come so cheap, and had been offered by such a nervous-looking realtor.

The ghosts were not human, of course. A human ghost might have been put to rest by the most humble of village priests or, in case of stubborn atheism or uncertain agnosticism, a stern talking-to by an elderly aunt or, if no blood-relatives might be found, a school teacher.

Human ghosts, as a rule, were a dreary lot, much given to talking and moaning.

The ghosts haunting Arina Tillikoppoli's new home did not talk, or moan. They _meowed_.

Thus, the solution to her problem.


End file.
